


The Beckoning

by GraceNM



Category: Angel: The Series (Comics), Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Comics), Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Season/Series 12, WildHorsesWeekend, background Willow/Faith, past Buffy/Spike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-02-29 13:58:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18779677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraceNM/pseuds/GraceNM
Summary: A follow-up to Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 12: The Reckoning.Angel has moved to San Francisco to be near Buffy and the gang. He's working at Willow's women's empowerment center and trying his best to make up for his past.But he has a little bit of a problem. He's in love with Buffy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mrs Gordo (MrsGordo)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsGordo/gifts).



> For my Bangel bestie Mrs Gordo. Thanks for being amazing!

Angel could pinpoint the exact moment he realized he was in trouble with Buffy.

He was starting a pot of coffee in the kitchen for the women who would be coming in for the early morning classes at the TARA Center before he headed home to get some sleep.

Buffy had burst in, clearly wired from a good night of slaying. She'd made some sort of quip — he didn't even remember now what she had said — and given him a huge smile, and he'd felt his stomach flip over. He answered with a goofy grin of his own.

She grabbed whatever it was she'd forgotten and they walked toward home together, until their diverging routes forced them to part ways. And the rest of the way home, all he could think was:

 _I'm in love with Buffy_.

And it was so silly. He'd loved Buffy for half her life now. Loving Buffy was as much a part of him as being a father or a vampire. He didn't need to think about it or question it.

But this feeling he had now? The heady rush he got from seeing her, the way he thought about her every five minutes, the way he'd started putting on music that reminded him of her before falling asleep...This was like the beginning, like back in Sunnydale. He was falling for her all over again.

And after that realization, he'd had another one. Buffy had been _flirting_ with him. She might have even stopped by the center just to see him, to have a little time together.

It scared the hell out of him.

He wanted Buffy back in his life. It had been healing to be near her as he recovered from the chaos of the last few years and from everything that happened with Illyria. Their friendship had always been more than friendship, deeper than that. But he hadn't stayed in San Francisco to try again with Buffy. That was never going to happen. There were very good reasons that was never going to happen.

He had to just tuck it away, this love for her, let it sleep in his bones like it always had and ignore the wild burning of his heart.

***

When he got to the center at the just-post-sunset start of another workday, he headed straight to the kitchen. He wasn’t hoping to run into anyone. He just...needed some coffee.

But he still smiled a little when he noticed Buffy was there, pouring herself a cup. It wasn’t unusual for her to stop in before her shift, and he knew it. It _was_ unusual, however, for her to be wearing her uniform.

There wasn’t much need for formality for the supernatural cops — it wasn’t like vamps would respect a badge and a gun. Better to blend into the night, or look like easy prey to lure them.

But today she was standing there looking every inch the beat cop with her little tie and her tucked-in waist and the hint of handcuffs glinting on her belt. It made his mouth go dry.

“Morning,” she said brightly as she looked up and saw him.

He must have done a poor job of concealing the desire in his eyes, because her eyebrows arched and suddenly the moment was charged.

He broke eye contact and headed for the coffee pot. “Morning,” he rumbled.

He wished he couldn’t hear how her pulse sped up and her breath hitched. That didn’t help with keeping all of this tamped down. But he had to. So he would.

Deflated, he filled a chipped mug and sipped the too-hot coffee, letting the sensation distract him.

"I had to go to court today," she said, her tone a little uncertain. "I arrested a regular old mugger on one of my shifts and I had to testify."

"How did it go?" He looked into those green eyes of hers for a split second, then back down into his mug.

"Good? I think good. It was a little nerve-racking. I'm still more used to the stabby-poofy form of justice, even as a sworn officer of the law."

He smiled, even as he cursed her inwardly for being so perfectly Buffy. Everything about her — the way her mind worked, the way she talked, the way she moved — was appealing to him. He hated it. (He loved it.)

Working in close quarters hadn't been hard at first. He was shell-shocked over Illyria's decision to exile herself to a hell dimension, and Buffy was bubbling over with supportive-friend vibes. But now everything was different again.

"Angel!" Willow's head popped through the doorway. "The 7 p.m. class is starting to get restless."

He nodded, flashing a look of apology at Buffy as he moved quickly toward the studio where he taught self-defense five days a week. As he walked away, he could hear Willow say teasingly, "Ooh, Officer Summers. Here to arrest me?"

He maneuvered through the hall, dodging women left and right. Some were slayers, some were witches, some weren’t magically inclined at all. But he got smiles and greetings from nearly all of them. He could acknowledge that it felt good, to be part of something again, to belong. Of course, part of his popularity was that he was one of the very few single men who spent a lot of time at the center.

There had been hostility toward him at first, which he had understood, given his still-too-fresh crimes. He had never expected to be part of the center when he asked Buffy if he could stick around in San Francisco. All he’d wanted was just to be another pair of stakes on the street.

But then a few slayers started seeking him out as a sparring partner and patrolling buddy, and word about his skills in training and teaching got back to Willow. He wouldn’t take the instructor job she offered, though, knowing there was still a contingent of slayers who, rightfully he thought, felt he didn’t belong.

That had started to change after his friend Nadira had come from London's Magic Town for a visit, to see him and Faith and some of her old slayer friends who were now based at the center. The objections had dried up after that trip, though he wasn’t sure exactly what Nadira had said. Eventually he’d given in and started teaching self-defense for the witches and civilians, as well as intensive weapons workshops and one-on-one sessions that were kind of like slayer personal training. He was always very busy. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so at peace.

Maybe he'd gotten too comfortable, let his guard down too much, and lost sight of the fact that his mistakes still loomed over him. He thought about planning a trip to see Connor in LA for a few days. Though they talked frequently, it had been a while since he took any time off.

A break could be good right now.

***

“So, what’s the what with you and B?”

Faith caught him when he was alone, cleaning up the training room in the wee hours. She was also in the habit of dropping by occasionally, before or after her shifts. She, however, was not in uniform — at least not her police gear. Just her usual leather pants, tank top and jacket combo.

“Angel?” Faith prompted. “Asked you a question.”

He let his annoyance show in his face. “It’s nothing. You know I don’t think about Buffy like that anymore.”

“OK, Pinocchio,” Faith said, leaning on a stack of mats. “So I should just forget what Willow said about the two of you in the kitchen earlier? She thought your eyes were gonna pop right out of your head.”

“I really don’t want to talk about this.”

“Neither do I, big guy. Believe me. But you know how it is. All this tension gets to me.”

She flashed a winning smile.

“There’s no reason to talk about what I might feel for Buffy because it’s impossible,” Angel said. “It’s a waste of time.”

Faith took a deep breath. “You mean because of the T word?”

He gave her a warning look.

“Hey, there’s the elephant in the room! Check out the size of that thing.”

“Faith.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Can you please not...?”

“Sorry, I’m not backing down. Let’s look at the facts. You got Giles back, helped save the world a couple more times. You’re working harder than anyone at the center. I got slayers wanting to spar with me all the time, thinking they can take me because they trained with you. Some of them even come pretty close.” She smiled ruefully at the thought. “At this point, what more can you do?”

“It’ll never be enough.”

“No. But that doesn’t mean you can’t ever have anything good.”

“I know. Truly. I have Connor. I have my work. I have you.” He touched Faith’s arm. “But I can’t...not her. Not like that.”

“You don’t deserve her, OK. What about her, though?”

“Buffy?”

“Yeah. Don’t you think Miss Saves-the-World deserves to be happy?”

“Of course.” He looked up into Faith's eyes. “You’re not suggesting...?”

“Oh, I am suggesting. She couldn’t make it work with Riley or Blondie or any of ‘em. She thinks it’s her.”

“Faith—“

“Yeah, OK, I’ve said my thing.” She cocked an eyebrow. “So, you up for some sparring? Gotta stay sharp with all those girls gunning for me.”

He chuckled and nodded. He was grateful for the distraction from his racing thoughts. Faith was sweet — wow, would she hate it if he ever said that out loud — but she was giving him too much credit. And it was more than just the … T word. There was the not-insignificant question of his soul as well.

Though maybe it was time to ask Willow about that, about a suspicion he had. Just to be sure.

Not that it would mean anything for him and Buffy.

Because that was impossible.


	2. Chapter 2

This was not a big deal. So Buffy was getting crushy feelings around Angel. Like palms sweating, heart pounding, tongue-tied kind of feelings.

But she was literally in her 30s now, not 16, and she could handle it. This was not a crisis. She was just attracted to him. Always had been, probably always would be. It didn’t have to _mean_ anything.

And anyway, he totally wasn’t into it. She saw flashes here and there that made her stomach flutter, but then he’d go back to being all blank and avoidy, like he’d put on a coat of flirt repellant or something.

He just wanted to be friends. She just wanted to be friends. They were just. going. to. be. friends.

_You’ll never be friends._

Well, Spike was wrong sometimes.

“All a-flutter, are we?” His voice startled her as she left the center, heading out on her patrol. Spike ground out his cigarette in the alley and stepped out into the streetlight. “Either there’s a shoe sale at Bloomingdale’s tonight or you just saw the Poof.” He rolled his eyes.

Spike was also right sometimes. Damn him.

“Hello to you too, Spike,” she said, ignoring his insinuation.

“I like the look,” he said, his eyes raking over her uniform, a lazy smile spreading across his cheeks. She blushed. For all that their past was past, he could still get to her sometimes.

“Had to go to court,” she said, shrugging. “And I should be on patrol now. You coming?”

“S’pose I could tag along,” he said, falling into step next to her. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” His face turned suddenly serious and she forgot his teasing, concerned.

“What is it?”

“Been thinking of going away for a bit.” He sighed. “A few weeks. I think I’m entitled to a holiday, yeah?” 

“Of course. I can’t believe you’re even asking me. It’s not like you need a permission slip.”

"Seems odd to just take off. But I think it's time. I haven't been away from— from the city since the big fight with Future Vamp, and I think it would do me good."

“Is there something...It’s not me, is it?” Buffy turned to him, but he was looking steadily ahead. “We’ve been doing so well.”

“Have we now?” He snorted. “Denial doesn’t suit, pet.”

Buffy bit her lip. Maybe she had noticed the hangdog looks and the hugs that lingered a beat too long. But that chapter in her life was closed, and she had chosen to ignore them. She and Spike just didn’t work. As hard as she’d tried, as much as she loved him, their relationship had always been missing something.

But he obviously hadn’t missed the palm-sweaty flirty stuff happening with Angel. Ugh.

“Have you talked to Dylan lately? She seemed—”

“Let’s not add insult to injury,” Spike interrupted. “I can mind my own prospects just fine, thank you.”

“Sorry,” Buffy said sheepishly. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I know.” He smiled a little painfully at that, but all further conversation was halted by the appearance of a couple of nasty-looking demons.

Whew. She wasn’t a teenager anymore, but there was still nothing like kicking ass to get over relationship drama. 

*** 

While Buffy was glad that Spike was taking the time away that he needed, his absence did mean that the SFPD Supernatural Division was missing its go-to souled vampire backup.

Spike had lost his consulting gig for a while, given the magic panic that had landed them in the camp, but Dowling had hired him back as soon as it was politically feasible. Spike was good at his job. He often had knowledge at the ready that could take even someone like Giles hours or days to find, and he fought well beside both Buffy and Faith.

Of course, there was another souled vampire in town now who could do those things too, but Angel had not been eager to get involved in any official capacity. Probably for the same reasons that it had taken Willow so long to get him to accept a job at the center. He couldn’t believe that anyone could get over...what he had done.

Buffy didn’t think she could ever truly understand it, his role or her own, but she had moved past it, whether that was fair or not. Her love for Angel had turned out to be pretty much unshakeable, which shouldn’t have been surprising. No matter how far she cut it back, it always regrew just the same.

It was impossibly unfair for the universe to both give her this kind of love and then constantly remind her how much she could never have it. But those were the breaks, right? Even just a couple years ago, she would never have imagined having Angel as a constant presence in her life again. She didn’t want to lose that.

So, she just had to get over her crush. She knew the advice — focus on their flaws, imagine what a day-to-day relationship would be like, not just the fantasy. But that didn’t work for her. She’d spent too much of her life dying for the chance for Angel’s neatnik tendencies to drive her crazy, and if none of his considerable flaws had driven her away yet, they definitely weren’t going to. And she knew she had plenty of her own, too.

No, she was old enough now to have a clear-eyed view of who Angel was, and she had proven over and over that she could give him up when she needed to.

So then, limiting contact was probably best. She shouldn’t stop by the center so frequently when she knew he’d be there. And she definitely shouldn’t go there specifically to catch a glimpse of him all glisteny after a long night of classes and training sessions.

And when a case came up at work that she usually would have taken to Spike for a consult, she definitely shouldn’t go immediately to Angel to ask for help in Spike’s absence.

Nope, she definitely shouldn’t do that.

***

“Remind me what we’re looking for again?” Buffy said as they tramped through an old, overgrown mission cemetery.

“Dohrne demon eggs,” Angel said softly. “They’re kind of slimy. And chartreuse.”

Buffy wrinkled her nose. “Is that greenish?” 

“Or yellowish, maybe,” Angel said. “I’ve never actually seen one up close.”

“And why are you so sure we’re looking for the Do—these specific eggs?”

“The vamps you overheard were talking about hatchlings that would fetch the highest prices on the black market. Dohrnes are expensive and very well-suited to this climate. I can’t think of another demon that you could get a better return for in this environment.” 

“Very business savvy of them. Look out, Jeff Bezos.”

Angel suddenly focused his attention on a clump of bushes. “You have a flashlight, right?” he asked. “Without any heat or movement, my senses aren’t going to help much out here.”

Buffy handed it to him, trying to ignore the way her pulse jumped when his skin brushed against hers. He aimed the beam at the bushes—just as a group of vampires sprang out from behind the mission and ran for them. 

Taking out a group of vampires was as easy as 1-2-3 for the two of them. They didn’t dust the fourth right away, though. Instead, Angel pinned the vamp’s arms back as he struggled.

“Where are the eggs?” Buffy asked.

“Wh-wh-what eggs?”

She rolled her eyes. It didn’t take much more pressure before they confirmed that the demon eggs were in the bushes Angel had spotted. Maybe they weren’t the brightest of vampires after all.

Convinced they had everything they needed, Buffy whirled and planted her stake home in the last vamp’s chest.

But she misjudged her force a little and, as he went poof, she had to do some awkward footwork to avoid hitting Angel with her stake, which she flung to the ground as she fell forward. She put her other hand out to steady herself and grabbed on to the front of Angel’s shirt. His arms came up to support her.

And that was how she found herself pressed tightly against Angel’s chest, her heart thumping in her ears. She was breathing heavily and the scent of him filled her senses. She looked up. His eyes burned down into hers, his arms strong and solid around her. And before she could stop herself, she hooked her free hand around the back of Angel’s neck and tugged his head down until she could press her mouth firmly to his.

“Buffy,” he said, startled, pulling slightly away.

The jolt that had gone through her whole body at that momentary meeting of their mouths was so strong she couldn’t say anything. She just looked at him, her gaze flicking from his eyes to his lips and back again. Her fingers on his neck moved infinitesimally upward, edging just a little into his hair, giving him just the smallest encouragement. And, thank god, after an endless moment of suspense, he took it, his lips descending back to hers almost furiously.

_Yes yes yes._

After so long, to be kissing Angel was like a dream. She didn’t understand how he could take her breath away just as easily as when she was 16. She was older, wiser, more mature. She wasn’t easily impressed and she knew what she was doing.

Angel just did it  _better_. Better than anyone else she’d ever kissed. It was practically criminal. She should arrest him for the crime of not kissing her all the damn time.

Nothing ever felt so right. Except that it was...wrong.

Oh no.

 _Oh no no no no_.

Buffy jumped away guiltily, realizing what they’d done.

They’d just wrecked everything. 

***

Somehow, awkwardly, they managed to destroy the demon eggs and leave the cemetery. Buffy would still need to track down and kill the Mama Dohrne, but that could wait.

Angel wanted to talk about it, Buffy could tell, but she needed to get out of there, sort out the jumbled mess in her head.

Now she was in the backseat of an Uber, leaning against the window as it pulled onto Dawn and Xander’s street. She was relieved to spot a light on in Joyce’s room.

Just a few minutes later, a sleepy Xander was ushering her up to the nursery, where Dawn was changing Joyce’s diaper. He yawned and waved, heading back to bed.

“Buffy? Are you OK?” Dawn’s face was painted with worry.

Buffy didn’t answer at first, making eye contact with her niece and waving. Joyce burbled something that sounded like “Buddy,” which gave her something happy to cling to. “Yay! It’s Aunt Buddy! Hi, baby girl.” She finally looked up at Dawn again and let her smile fade.

“Honestly? I’m not OK,” she said. “I was just taking out a demon nest with Angel and things got weird. I’m all mixed up.” She fidgeted with some of Joyce’s little toys on the changing table.

“Mixed up about...Angel?” Buffy could  _hear_ the way Dawn’s eyebrows lifted in the tone of her voice. “Did something happen?”

“No. Maybe. Yes.” Buffy ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s so confusing.”

“Is it...I mean, do you want to try again? With Angel?”

“I can’t!” Buffy said forcefully, the fears circling through her head finally making their way out. “Every time I even contemplate being with Angel, the whole world falls apart! Literally! I’m not _allowed_ to want this.”

Joyce was startled by Buffy’s sudden vehemence and started to cry. "I'm sorry," Buffy said miserably, her own eyes spilling over.

"It's OK...It's OK, sweetie," Dawn murmured. She was bouncing Joyce but looking at Buffy. "Just sit down in that chair and I'll be right back." 

She left the room. Buffy sat down as instructed and let herself cry into Joyce's big soft duckie pillow, hugging it against her.

Dawn knocked softly before coming back in the room without Joyce. She crossed to the chair and stroked Buffy's hair. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," Buffy sniffed. "I'll be fine."

"C'mon, then," Dawn said, holding out her hand to pull Buffy to her feet. "I told Xan I'm spending the night at your place." 

"What? Oh, Dawnie, you don't have to. I can take care of myself."

"As if I don't know that. But I thought maybe we could talk. And have junk food. And then I could sleep for a whole bunch of uninterrupted hours."

And Buffy hugged her sister tight.

***

Later, after Buffy had spilled the whole story, they sat in the flickering light of some terrible reality show, Dawn’s hands braiding Buffy’s hair as she sat on the floor, her back against the couch. Dawn sighed.

“I know getting advice from your little sister is practically a fate worse than death,” she said. “But I think…”

“What?” Buffy said as Dawn’s hesitant silence stretched. “Tell me.”

Dawn got down off the couch to sit next to Buffy, their shoulders touching.

“Buffy, you can't let fate make decisions for you. Ever. Just look around. You’re not the only slayer in the world anymore because you changed it. And we just changed the whole future not too long ago.” She smiled. “After all that, don’t you think you can figure out how to be with Angel, if that’s what you really want? In a way that has nothing to do with destiny or soulmates or any of that stuff? Just because you love each other?”

Buffy had been so sure that Dawn would tell her that she should give Angel up again that it took a moment for her words to sink in. But in them, she found a wild little flutter of hope.

Still, it wasn’t up to Buffy alone. Would Angel ever be willing to risk it again? 

Was she brave enough to find out?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven’t read the Dark Horse comics, or don’t remember them well, you can (and probably should) totally skip the entire flashback scene with Illyria. There’s nothing in it that’s important to the B/A story that you won’t already know. This is pure self-indulgence to undo DH’s handling of a certain character. :D

“So, when are you going to tell Buffy?” Willow asked.

She was sitting across from Angel in her office at the TARA Center. Just minutes before, Angel had been in the magic circle of Willow’s coven as they ran a series of mystical tests. All of them showed that the curse on his soul had been broken, but that the soul itself remained. It was no longer possible for him to be destroyed by a moment of perfect happiness.

Angel had been expecting this news, ever since he realized what Illyria must’ve meant with her repeated urgings to _know happiness_. But he still couldn’t quite believe that it was real.

“I don’t know,” he said, feeling dizzy. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell her.”

“Nuh-uh,” Willow said, her bright smile drooping. “Wrong answer, mister. She needs to know. After everything you two have been through, this is a big deal. The biggest of deals.”

As a million thoughts swirled through this head, Angel latched on to the one thing he could never escape. “After what I’ve done...what right do I have to even suggest—”

“Angel.” Willow’s face was settling into resolve. “She’s old enough to make her own choices now, don’t you think?”

“It’s not...it’s not about age or maturity,” Angel said carefully. “It’s about Buffy. She forgives people. That’s just who she is. She forgives them and she loves them, even at her own expense sometimes. I don’t want to make her feel...obligated to do anything. Just because something happened that would have made her happy a decade ago.”

Willow tilted her head. “I understand where you’re coming from. I do. But that’s still just a very sweet way of taking the decision away from her.”

Angel sighed.

“I hope...I mean, I like to think that everyone that Buffy has forgiven has brought something good to her life, too,” Willow continued. “And, you know, she’s needed to be forgiven herself a time or ten. She’s not perfect.”

“I know.” Angel rubbed his forehead and fidgeted in his chair, feeling suddenly confined.

“I told the coven to keep this to themselves for now, and I will too. But if you don’t tell Buffy soon, I’m going to,” Willow said.

He nodded, swiping a hand over his jaw.

“Willow, I know it’s short notice, but could you manage if I took a few days off? Connor’s on break, and I need time to get my head around this.”

“Of course. I think Vi should be able to handle your classes. I’ll check with her.” Willow gave him a sudden little smile. “Just make sure to be back by Saturday. I’m putting together a little birthday bash for Faith.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” He stood up.

“Say hi to the future Dr. Reilly for me.”

“I will.” Angel couldn’t help grinning at that, the proud father coming out despite how overwhelmed he felt. He walked to the door, then stopped and turned back with a smirk. “You’re throwing a party for Faith, huh?”

Willow turned slightly pink. “Hey, Buffy isn’t the only one who can rock a uniform,” she murmured.

***

On the long, dark drive to Los Angeles, Angel had plenty of time to turn the memories over in his mind.

After the battle with Harth Fray, they had waited three painful months before going to the hell dimension where Illyria had exiled herself. Given his own experience in Acathla’s world, and Connor’s time in Quor’toth, Angel thought that should give her plenty of time to vanquish her foes, as she had requested.

When they came through Dawn’s portal, they landed in a heap — Angel, Willow, Faith, Spike and Gunn. Angel had refused Buffy’s offer to come along (“Illyria’s sacrifice was to prevent you from getting trapped in a hell dimension. We can’t risk ruining that.”), but he’d needed Willow to provide a way back, and Faith to help protect her. And Gunn had absolutely put his foot down (“It’s Fred, man.”), so Angel was actually grateful that Spike wanted to make the trip, so there would be a better chance of keeping the non-superpowered human in one piece.

As they all got to their feet, they looked around in shock.

“Shit,” Faith said. “If I knew hell was this nice, I’d have come sooner.”

It was stunning. The sky was a gentle rosy hue and the yellow grass under their feet was soft. In the distance, they could see blue mountains with what looked like palm trees. Even better, absolutely no one was attacking them.

A circle of demons soon gathered, but they spoke a language even Spike couldn’t understand. Willow was still acclimating to the dimension’s magical climate, so she couldn’t work a translation spell yet, but it didn’t matter, because soon enough they spotted a mass of tentacles headed their way.

Illyria.

The demons chattered excitedly as she approached.

“My warrior,” she said to Angel. “I instructed you not to follow. You have wasted your energies.”

“I needed to make sure you were OK,” Angel said.

“You can understand what it’s saying?” Gunn hissed behind him. But Angel was too focused on Illyria to respond.

“Won’t you return with us?” Angel asked.

"I wish that I could, but the balance we have achieved here is tenuous. I must stay and ensure that chaos and darkness do not return to these lands. I owe that to my people here and I owe it to the memory of those I previously destroyed."

“But Fred—” Angel began.

“I am sorry. But you ask for a being who no longer exists.”

“She’s gone?” Angel’s throat ached. “What happened?”

“I have done no new harm to the Fred creature. What was done had been done already."

"Tell me—tell me what you mean."

"The human mind is both fragile and powerful. It can construct its own reality out of memories, out of echoes. Fred’s rebirth was like this. An echo."

"So it was never real?"

"I regret to hurt you in this way, but no. When I arrived here, I discovered there was no life in the shell but my own."

As much as it pained him, Angel felt in his gut that it was true. It had happened before — Illyria had involuntarily assumed Fred’s form when LA went to hell. And the Fred who had emerged after the changes to Earth’s magic had always been missing something. He had chalked it up to the immense trauma, but now he fully understood why she had never gone back to visit her parents, never really renewed her relationships except with him. Why she had kept to a holding pattern. She was never really Fred.

Fresh pain spread through him. "But you...you’re sure you won’t come back?"

“No, my warrior. I have missed you dearly, but I am firm in this. Do not return here. Go home,” she said. And then, in a blink of an eye, they were all standing right back where they had started. Dawn looked at them in shock.

Angel’s ears were echoing with Illyria’s final words to him, the same ones she had used during the reckoning with Harth: “Know happiness.”

It wasn’t until many months later that he understood.

***

The time with Connor was exactly what Angel needed. The two of them spent comfortable hours watching hockey, killing demons and cooking eggs — Connor was eager to learn his dad’s technique, even if Angel didn’t partake himself.

They went out to an Irish pub with Gunn and laughed as Connor related stories about his medical exploits. Apparently growing up in a hell dimension was good preparation for a rotation in the ER. “No injury could ever be more disgusting than a Orvaeth demon,” he said.

And Angel felt the usual pang at the mention of Connor’s messed-up childhood, but it faded as the night went on. Connor was in such good spirits that Angel even started to remind himself that he shouldn’t get _too_ happy—and then it hit him full force.

He didn’t have to worry about that anymore.

The sudden sensation of relief — the knowledge that his own happiness couldn’t hurt him or anyone he loved ever again — was so powerful that he felt tears in the corners of his eyes. He blinked them back, but Connor and Gunn noticed his emotion and he couldn’t hold his secret in anymore. He told them all of it.

Connor seemed too stunned to speak. Gunn cleared his throat. “So this means you can get some again, huh?” he said, clearly attempting to lighten the mood.

“Not in front of the kid, Charles,” Angel chided, but he was grateful. “And it was never about that. I could…”

“Just not with your one true love? The same one you moved to San Francisco for?”

“I didn’t…” Angel stumbled over his words.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Gunn said winkingly. “What does she say about all this?”

And Angel drained the rest of his drink instead of answering.

When Thursday came, Angel knew he needed to get back. There was too much waiting on him in San Francisco for him to delay anymore. Happily, when Connor and Gunn heard about Faith’s party, they both decided to come up for the weekend, too. Neither of them ever missed a chance to flirt with Faith.

But Angel knew that even with their best efforts, they wouldn’t stand a chance against a certain redheaded witch.

***

By the time they made the drive and Angel found Connor and Gunn reasonably comfortable spots to sleep in his apartment, it was too close to sunrise to risk going out. Instead, Angel stood at his kitchen counter with a glass of blood, thinking about Buffy.

He had to tell her. He _wanted_ to tell her.

But he wasn’t sure what Buffy would want. He was still a vampire, after all, even if he couldn’t lose his soul. She would still be better off with someone who could go with her into the light. Maybe he should leave, so she wouldn’t be pressured into something she couldn’t possibly…

Willow’s voice interrupted the familiar downhill flow of his thoughts. _She’s old enough to make her own choices now, don’t you think?_

She was right. And maybe the reason Angel was fighting so hard against himself was because he was pretty sure he _did_ know what Buffy would want. The same thing that he wanted.

But he had trained himself not to give into happiness for so long that he wasn’t sure he knew how.

***

Angel walked into the TARA Center after sunset with his stomach tied in knots. The first person he saw was Willow and the look she gave him didn’t help at all.

“Brave of you to show your face here,” she teased. “Buffy’s been on the warpath since you left.” She tapped her wrist, as if she were wearing a watch. “Time’s a-wasting.” Her voice dropped away and she silently mouthed, “Tell her.”

He’d taken only a few more steps before Buffy herself was cornering him and dragging him into Willow’s empty office. She closed the door none too gently.

“Nice disappearing act,” she said, with fire in her eyes.

She was pissed. Maybe fleeing the city without a word after their kiss had been ill-advised. To put it mildly.

“Buffy—”

“You know, I was really scared about this, about what happened between us. In fact, I was pretty much terrified. But then you left, and you know what? Getting angry at you really helped.” She glared at him. “Maybe you want to pretend it never happened. And if that’s what you really want, fine. But you have to look me in the eye and tell me that.”

“That’s not what I want.” He met her gaze steadily. No more running away. No more hurting Buffy while trying to protect her. He could do this for her, if not for himself.

She took a deep breath, bobbing her head and seeming to panic just a little. “OK, so what does that mean? You...you want to try again? I’ve been thinking that things are different now. Willow is so much more powerful than she used to be. I mean, she shared the slayer power and restored magic and all kinds of things. We can research about your soul if you think it might still be... I mean, there’s gotta be a—”

“My soul is already safe,” he said quietly. “I can’t lose it anymore.”

“What?” Buffy smiled hugely, her hand coming up to cover her mouth, shock in her eyes. But then her brow crinkled. “How? Were you ever going to tell me? How long have you known?”

“Just a few days,” he rushed to explain. “Right before I left for LA. I just needed time to think. But I swear I was going to tell you. I just didn’t want to...assume anything.”

“How?” she asked again.

“Illyria. She wanted me to be able to be happy. But I didn’t understand it at the time. It was only once I realized I had fallen in love with you all over again that I knew what she meant. Willow confirmed it.”

“Oh,” Buffy said, hope warring with confusion on her face. “Illyria. Do you—I mean, would you rather go back to...?”

“No, Buffy. My home is here. Honestly, my romantic relationship with Illyria was never very...serious. She was a dear friend. A kindred spirit, in a way. But she made her choice. And she can never be who she was again.”

Buffy nodded sadly. This part of the story, at least, she knew. “I’m sorry.”

They stood in silence for a moment. Then Buffy looked at him with a little smile. “I just want to make sure I heard a couple of things that you said right. You can’t lose your soul anymore?”

Angel shook his head.

“And you still love me?”

He smiled and nodded.

And then before he knew what was happening, Buffy was in his arms and he was laughing. His heart felt like it was about to burst — and he didn’t need to worry, he didn’t need to pull away.

But he did anyway. There was one more thing he had to say.

“Wait, Buffy. Are you sure you can still want this, after everything? I don’t deserve—”

“Stop that,” she interrupted. “This isn’t a reward for good behavior. There’s no guarantee it’ll even work. I think we’re just finally getting a chance to find out.” She touched his face. “Believe me, being with someone because you think they deserve it isn’t enough. Love is about way more than that. And I love you, Angel. Again. Still.”

He could find no better response to that than to kiss her, long and slow and deep.

He pressed his forehead against hers. “Will you be my date to Faith’s party?” he asked, smiling.

“That depends,” she responded flirtatiously. “Will you walk me home after my shift tonight? And stay?”

“Your place, hmm?” He chuckled. “Just as well. We might need those handcuffs. Just to play it safe.”

Only the fact that they were still technically in the workplace stopped the kissing from getting completely scandalous after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fred is in some happy dimension with Wesley, OK? Not exiled to another hell dimension for who knows how long.


	4. Epilogue

Buffy backed away slowly, letting the kitchen door swing shut, her mouth hanging open in shock at what she had just witnessed. She needed to talk to someone about this right away.

As she walked through the doors of the center and out into the courtyard, she was surrounded by the happy sounds of music and laughter that filled her heart the way only a Scooby barbecue could. She passed the grill, where Xander was flipping hamburgers and talking to Gunn about what sounded like either demons or video games. She walked by the picnic table where Dawn was asking Connor questions about his pediatrics rotation while he held Joyce, who was eating from his plate. She waved at Giles as he arrived with his new girlfriend, a recent transplant from the Devon coven.

And Buffy headed right for the guy who was standing a little apart from all of them, watching her with a big smile and a million miles of love in his eyes.

“I just went to the kitchen to check on the ice situation and you will never believe what I saw,” she said enthusiastically as he handed her back the drink he’d been holding for her.

“A Dohrne demon egg?”

“What? Ew. Why would I be excited about that?”

“My understanding was that Dohrne demon eggs put you in the mood for kissing.”

“That was one time!” Buffy protested, but she leaned in to kiss him anyway. As she put her arms around him, she couldn’t stop herself from remembering exactly how they had spent the hours before the party. She was rather pleasantly worn out from it.

“This is what I was trying to tell you about,” Buffy said as she pulled away from Angel’s lips.

“Hmmm,” he said distractedly, kissing her again.

“I was trying to tell you about kissing,” she said. “I saw Willow and Faith! Kissing! They were kissing in the kitchen!”

Angel just looked at her.

“Aren’t you surprised?” she prompted.

“Didn’t you see them sharing that pie at your police academy graduation party? They’ve been flirting like crazy for months now. I’m just glad Willow finally made a move.”

Buffy laughed, shaking her head. Somehow she had missed the whole thing when it was happening right under her nose. 

“Does everybody know but me? Does Dawnie know?”

“I think Dawn was the one who suggested the birthday party to Willow in the first place.”

Buffy looked over at her sister and Connor, who were now laughing as Joyce played with her toys. The sight made her forget all about Willow and Faith for the moment.

“They look like they’re having fun,” Buffy said as Angel followed her gaze. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over the whole my-son-looks-the-same-age-as-me thing, though.”

“It’s a little weird. But I think it makes things easier sometimes, to seem less like an authority figure. We never really got to have that kind of relationship.”

Buffy hugged him closer for a moment. She sighed. “It just reminds me that pretty soon I’m going to look all old and wrinkly while you never will.”

“I’ve never had a problem with older women, Buffy.”

“Hey,” she said, smacking his arm playfully. “No guy who is well on his way to his tricentennial gets to suggest that I’m old!” She shrugged. “I guess looking older is pretty much a cakewalk compared to our previous relationship attempts.”

“We’ll figure it all out,” Angel said. “We’ll make it work.”

And, for once, she truly believed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wouldn’t be the Gageverse if we didn’t end with a barbecue! :D
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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